TWILIGHT YEARS
by Rufferto
Summary: Frodo has a mysterious stomach disorder at age 14. Esmerelda, Bilbo & Gandalf featured
1. CHAPTER ONE

TWILIGHT YEARS  
Winter : Brandy Hall : Frodo Age 14  
  
TOLKIEN DISCLAIMER : I don't own anything Tolkien, he owns it. Please don't use any of my original characters without my permission. This is slightly AU, presuming Frodo knew Gandalf at a young age. Thank-you. -Rufferto  
  
PERSONAL DISCLAIMER : I was going to make this one the exclusive for the fanzine Febobe is planning, but I have another idea for that one. There is : No Slash, No Sex, No Profanity, etc.  
  
SYNOPSIS : Frodo has an eating disorder. He cannot digest anything because he has pain in his stomach. He will have to have an operation in order to take care of it or he will die.  Gandalf will perform the operation on Bilbo's request after the true nature of Frodo's illness is discovered by a visiting hobbit Doctor from Bree who practices 'new medicine'.  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
Frodo curled his legs up under his chair sipping from his warm mug as he shivered a little. It was cold and in the hall a birthday party was happening. One of his many cousins, he'd forgotten the name, all he really could think about was that he wished he was anywhere but here.  He hated parties because he was always the 'odd' one out. His parents were not around to introduce him, and he was always exchanged from one Aunt to another... whomever happened to be free at the moment.    
  
The Applemint tea was soothing is throat which had been dry and itchy all day.  He was almost fourteen.  It had been a couple of years since his parents died, but he felt like it was yesterday.   Everyone had told him time and again to 'get over it', and finally he just pretended he had so as to get them to stop complaining. Most of the time he ended up fending for himself. He didn't mind though, he liked being alone, it meant he could read and dream...and sometimes...he could even feel the touch of his mother's hand if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough.  But she would never be there when he opened them.  
  
Frodo sighed, finding it difficult to concentrate on the story he was reading. He reached up and rubbed his chest, it was awfully achey...he wanted to go in and refill his cup, but he knew that one of his Aunts would chide him for not being a part of the games going on at the party. He sighed and ran his hand through his thick, somewhat mussy, curls and leant his head against the back of the chair, his eyes staring out a nearby window at the frost that was thick upon it and the wind beyond.    
  
He tried not to think about it but he longed for a pair of warm arms to circle around him and someone that he could lay his head against as they consoled him...but no one ever had any time, there were too many other children.  He put his small hand to his lips and covered a hoarse cough a faint tear trickling down his cheek.  The teenager wiped the tear away angrily and huddled in the chair. He was thirsty...his throat was dry, but he didn't -want- to be in a room filled with people having fun.  
  
And there were plenty of things to eat too, things he -liked- to eat but he didn't really feel all that hungry. In fact...he hadn't really eaten much all day.  
  
"Frodo, good gracious, dear. What on earth are you doing here alone in our parlor when everyone is in the main hall." his Aunt Esmerelda had been looking for Frodo ever since she'd seen him look rather pale after he'd eaten something at dinner. Smiling kindly, the large woman put her hand against the teenager's forehead, "Well, you're not sick, dear, but something's the matter isn't it?"  She sat down in a nearby chair, "You can't spend all of your cousin Jemmy's birthday party here. It's not right, dear. You need to be with people."  
"I know Aunt...my tummy..." he looked up at her with big round eyes and sniffled plaintively, "It hurts a little..please...can I just go lie down in my room?"  
  
"Oh, Frodo Frodo." Esmerelda shook her head with a sigh. "Your cousin is about to give away presents and there's one for you, you know, so you'd best come with me now. I think you need something to drink too, you're sounding a bit parched there, my boy. Come on; give me your hand now. I'll take you inside."  
  
Frodo sighed; he knew there was no getting around it now. He tentatively slid to his feet, at least he was feeling steady now and he didn't think he was going to fall down. He looked up at his aunt looking for all the world as though he'd rather do anything other than go into that party.  
  
Esmerelda shook her head, inwardly she wished that it was okay to let Frodo have his way, but if they did he would keep himself locked away all the time and he would never get over what happened. She put her arm around his shoulders, lending him a bit of support as she took him out into the hall where lantern lights and loud laughter and merrymaking assaulted his eyes and ears.  
   
Frodo's stomach felt queasy when he saw one of his cousins stuff his face with birthday cake and offer him a piece. He shook his head quickly, trying not to offend but not in the least interested in food right now. Something to drink…now that was a different story.   
  
Once they were inside, someone else took Esmerelda's attention. And so Frodo was very relieved to be left on his own once again. He made his way over to the punch bowl and eyed the contents of the table, lemonade or punch. No apple juice…he looked hopefully around for some tea and found a lukewarm pot of it to refill his mug with. Eagerly the young Baggins sipped.  
  
Then he began to cough…and sputter…clutching the table for support…. for he had drunk too quickly and inhaled the tea the wrong way. He clenched his stomach…barely hearing the shouts of alarm as well-meaning relatives hurried to his side.   
  
The room began to sway…and swim about him…. and young Frodo Baggins' eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.  
  
**TBC**  
  
   
   
  


	2. CHAPTER TWO

TWILIGHT YEARS  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
Frodo lay where he was, feeling something soft underneath him and the sounds of the party were gone. He stifled a moan as his eyes flickered open…there were voices just near the door to his room…Esmerelda was speaking with his aunt Cherrysa could just barely hear them and he felt color rising up to his ears as he began to understand what they were speaking of.  
  
"Now then Cherrysa, calm down. Frodo didn't disturb any-"  
  
"I declare, Esmerelda, he has been pulling these little stunts ever since…well ever since it happened. Trying to get attention, that's what. Tummy ache, feh. I warrant he ate too many sweets, the lad gets into trouble easily. I don't know how you put up with it, he's upset my Jemmy because he wasn't there to accept his gift, and now everyone's talking about -him- when they should be talking about -my- lad."  
Cherry's breath came out in a gasp as Esmerelda glared sternly at her.  
  
The older Brandybuck was holding her son Merriadoc in her arms; the child was sleeping soundly but was beginning to stir. "Keep your voice down, Cherry. You'll wake the baby. Now, I've heard quite enough of what you have to say about the matter. I'll see to it that we find out what's wrong with the young Baggins. He'll make his apologies in the morning. Go on now. I've got work to do here. And…oh thank goodness. Dr. Sorrias, you're here!"  
  
Cherry Brandybuck huffed and picked up her skirts, stalking out of the room. "Mark my words, Esmerelda. He's trouble waiting to happen." With that, she shut the door behind her…rather heavily.  
  
Esmerelda sighed as the sound -did- wake Merry and he began to fuss in her arms, his eyes forcing themselves open as he gazed about curiously. "There now poppet, back to sleep with ye." she cooed and smiled warmly at the old, red-faced doctor. "I'm so glad you could make it Sorrias, I don't know what's wrong with him. He says his tummy hurts, but he hasn't eaten…or at least, nothing that -I've- seen him eat. Let me go in and warn him that you're here before you enter his room. Oh, Sarradoc, you're back too…here…you take Merry…I must attend Frodo."  
  
Having just come in from a tavern, Sarradoc Brandybuck looked decidedly dazed as his wife handed him the small bundle that was his heir, and he managed to quickly get rid of his pipe in the meantime and gave a grunt…. Though soon he and his son were quite content, settled on one of the big chairs in the living room. "What's going on now, eh?" He took the bottle of milk from his wife and proceeded to feed the child.  
  
"Frodo's ill. Hush now." Esmerelda gave Merry a kiss on the forehead and hurried to Frodo's room. The door was slightly ajar and she entered first before the flustered doctor. She pushed open the door and made her way to her nephew's bedside, reaching over to touch his cheek gently. "Frodo? Time to wake up now, honey."  
  
Frodo -was- awake…but he decided not to let on that he had been awake all the time earlier, he gave a yawn and let his eyes flutter open and blinked up at his Aunt drowsily. "Is it morning already?" he asked, reaching a pale hand out to grasp hers.  
  
Esmerelda took the cold little hand and sat on the bed, "No, dear. The doctor's here to see you in order to find out what's wrong with your tummy. Now…how about some of this nice Blackberry juice? It will settle things at least enough for the Doctor to look at you."  
  
"I….I don't want to see the doctor." Frodo pouted, refusing the juice. He didn't really -like- Blackberry juice and besides, everything he drank or ate that didn't consist of apples made his tummy hurt anyway. "I just want to sleep…Please, can I?"  
  
"Frodo, you need to drink something, now…don't be silly, of course you're going to see the Doctor. Open up." Esmerelda pressured him gently.   
  
With a sigh, Frodo finally accepted the juice and drank a bit of it. When she was satisfied his Aunt called to the door. "Dr Sorrias, he's awake now, do come in."  
  
The doctor found his way to the young Baggins' bedside and harrumphed a bit when he first spied the lad. "Far too thin." he said crisply, "Needs to eat more, can see from that right away."  
  
"But sir…" Frodo began. Eat more? Just the thought of eating made him cringe…unless maybe it was apple-pudding…or something like that…  
  
The doctor took no notice of the plea for attention as he opened his bag and began to take out a thing or two to begin his examination. "Like as not he ate something that disagreed with him, lads do that, you know. There's bee a few cases of bad mushrooms in these parts, never can tell. Now, Frodo-lad, open your mouth and say Ahhhh…"  
  
Frodo complied weakly, though he gave his Aunt a helpless gaze. She was a little distracted at the moment for Merry was crying in the other room. "Let the doctor tend you, dear. I'll be back shortly." she patted the young lad's hand and hurried out into the living room to see what her son needed.  
  
Frodo wanted to cry. He was not alone though and obliged to sit through the next few minutes of the examination.   
  
"Does it hurt right here, lad?" The doctor asked, prodding here and there. Frodo shook his head, his tummy only hurt when he was eating…it was hard to explain, and most people never believed him. He gazed mournfully ahead and waited for the doctor to finish. A good twenty minutes went by as he was examined thoroughly and it took about that long for his Aunt to return.  
  
Esmerelda entered the room looking a bit frazzled, yet she calmed herself down and regarded the doctor with a hopeful smile, "Is everything alright then? He's not got anything catching has he? My Merry's at a susceptible age, you know…"  
  
"No no." the doctor shook his head and snapped his bag shut. "There's nothing wrong with him that I can tell, Mrs. Brandybuck. Though he probably has a touch of the flu from something that he ate."  
  
"But I didn't…." Frodo's eyes flashed as he tried to get a word in edgewise…but Esmerelda gave him a stern look and he sighed and bit his lip in frustration.  
  
"Here's a tonic for you to give him." He handed a bottle to the lady hobbit and prepared to leave. "Let the lad sleep for about a day and have him drink some of that every six hours until he can get down a proper meal and he should be okay."  
  
"Yes, doctor. I'll do that, thank-you!" Esmerelda breathed a sigh of relief as Sorrias left; she turned to Frodo and smiled, putting the tonic down. "I'll just go get a cup to put it in for the first time. I'm glad it's not anything serious, luv." she leant down and kissed Frodo's forehead then bustled out of the room towards the kitchen.  
  
Frodo lay where he was and stared at the ceiling. Tonic? His stomach was already churning from the Blackberry juice. Why didn't anyone ever believe him? His mamma would have. She would not have let the Doctor leave without letting him explain where it hurt. But…she was gone…and he was alone now. Tears pooled in his eyes as he huddled in his bed, eying the tonic in trepidation, for he was quite sure he wasn't going to be able to get down that foul liquid.  
  
**TBC** 


	3. CHAPTER THREE

Regarding Frodo's current illness : What he has is an obstruction in his stomach that will have to be removed by very delicate surgery. This story is based on a real life condition of a friend of mine, an incurable disease that she'll probably have to live with for the rest of her life. However, in this story, we won't be quite so dark, it is Middle Earth after all and Middle Earth has Gandalf. I plan on this fic spanning from Age 14 till Age 21 when the actual operation occurs.  
  
TWILIGHT YEARS  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
Frodo was not at all happy. Just before she let him go to sleep his aunt had given him a dose of the tonic. Since then he'd spent the night only half-asleep…constantly waking up due to churning pain in his stomach. He curled up in his bed, clutching his stomach, his eyes shut tight in pain. The tonic had done practically nothing to ease the turmoil within and he whimpered.  
  
But no one heard him.  
  
Saradoc and Esmerelda had already gone to sleep after Merry was fed and taken care of. Frodo had half watched from his bed while she coaxed Merry to sip the warm thick broth from the thin glass bottle in her hand. The small bottle was stoppered with only a tiny opening to allow for small amounts to be drawn out. Merry was a fussy child and had not taken to eating with spoons well yet. He had wished that she would feed him from something like that…for it would certainly be a lot easier than eating anything solid right now. However, he had not had the courage to ask and he had only watched.   
  
He knew it wasn't because they didn't care that Esmerelda wasn't with him in his room right now. It was just that they felt he would get better quickly. It was just a normal stomach flu after all. The tonic should do the trick. It was just that Esmerelda's attention always seemed to be diverted by Merry…and he never got the kind of care that he wanted.  
  
He supposed that if his parents had had more children, he would have had to deal with the same thing, but it hurt nonetheless. The young hobbit had never gotten over what had happened, no matter what anyone did to help him. They all tended to tell him to 'forget'. That was the -last- thing Frodo wanted to do…forget his parents.   
  
Maybe if he wished hard enough? He'd tried that before though. He'd tried EVERYTHNG but still they never came back. Saradoc and Esmerelda weren't bad alternatives, he supposed but they weren't -his- parents. And his mother would -never- have left him in his room alone while he was sick, she would have checked on him at least once every thirty minutes, if not stayed with him all the time. She would not have let the Doctor leave so easily.  
  
It hurt…  
  
  
His stomach felt like he was going to throw up, but he had not eaten for most of the day! What did he have to throw up?? He had not really eaten anything all day. "Mamma…" he whimpered. The small child grabbed a hold of one of his pillows and began to cry softly into it.   
  
Everything always hurt though, even when he wasn't sick he didn't stop feeling the pain of loss. It had only been a couple of years. Not even a full two years yet and he could still remember the scent of his mother's perfume and the way her hair felt when he curled his little fingers into it.  
  
He also remembered how his father used to laugh, a rich and vibrant sound that had always made him feel very special. His father had been well known to be a remarkably cheerful person, having been able to marry the hobbit lass he loved and to have a young son to carry on his name. Drogo Baggins was always coming up with fun things for them to do during the day. Fishing trips, hiking…his father loved to walk about, then they would come home and dinner would be on the table.  
  
Primula always seemed to know -when- they'd be back too and she'd have everything nice and warm and fresh. Her rolls were always so soft, and her pumpkin tarts. His mother always used to know what kind of foods to make that would get him to eat, and they always seemed to be geared to wards more of a liquidy and less solid nature unless it had to do with Apples or Mushrooms. Primula used to make the most excellent apple pudding and he could almost smell it. Tearfully he opened his eyes to look tentatively over at the glass of Blackberry juice that rested on his bedside table. He -was- thirsty…but he didn't want that. He wanted apple juice…he knew there was some in the kitchen.  
  
It was no use wishing anymore…Frodo realized that now. His mother and father were gone…and they weren't coming back. One of the main things that used to ease his stomach before when it hurt -was- apple juice…all he would have to do would be to get up and go to the kitchen.  
  
Frodo took a deep shuddering breath and crawled to the edge of his bed, his nightshirt half slipping off his shoulder as his small legs peaked out from under the quilts and he eased himself off the bed.   
  
The small miserable child drew on his robe weakly and began to work his way out to the hall that lead to the kitchen. He held himself up by way of the walls and slowly but surely found himself where he wanted to be. As he got closer to the kitchen he was somewhat startled…for he could smell something…he wondered what on earth it could be this late at night.   
  
He took another deep breath and a little smile tugged at his small lips as he realized what the scent was.  
  
Baked Apples…  
  
***TBC*** 


	4. CHAPTER FOUR

TWILIGHT YEARS   
CHAPTER FOUR  
  
Frodo tiptoed towards the kitchen door and gave a soft sigh when he smelt the apples once again. He peeked his head inside and smiled briefly. Upon the table was a covered bowl of fresh made apple-pudding. Who? He scratched his head and yawned. He was still very tired…but his stomach rumbled a little despite being in such pain earlier. This was the -first- time he'd actually felt hungry in days. He padded over to the bowl nervously, glancing around. No one seemed to be in the kitchen. The little hobbit then hopped up on a stool and leant over with his finger…about to dip it into the pudding when he heard a tsk.  
  
"Frodo Baggins, what on earth do you think you're doing out of bed?" A tsking sound, and Frodo glanced to the door. "Its still too warm, you can have some later if you're feeling better. You really don't look that much better yet, though."  
  
Frodo's eyes opened wide when he saw the figure in the kitchen doorway. "Uncle Bilbo!" tears of relief flowed and he practically launched himself into his Uncle's arms. "Where did you come from? How long have you been here? Why…"  
  
Bilbo returned the hug and laughed, lifting Frodo back up and put him on the stool patting the lad's curls.  
"I only got in two hours ago, my lad. You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you just yet. I poked my head in to check on you, of course. Your Aunt Esmerelda said you hadn't been eating and claimed to have a stomachache. Well, I told her, that's because you're not making things he likes! Ridiculous, says she, a hobbit should eat what's put in front of him. I shook my head at her and said I'd fix something up right quick. What's the matter, lad? You look woozy. There now…" he tilted Frodo's chin up. "What in the Shire did they give you? You look like you're both hungry and want to throw up at the same time."  
  
"A … A tonic of some kind. I don't know…its not making me feel any better, Bilbo…" Frodo whimpered a little, rubbing his stomach. "I smelt the apples…and it made me a little hungry…but now it just hurts again"  
  
"There now lad, easy." Bilbo steadied Frodo as he swayed slightly, holding an arm around the younger Baggins. "Tonic eh? Can't abide that stuff that they pass out as medicine around here." he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Oh! I've just got back from one of my trips, you know and I was told in Hobbiton that you were looking like you needed a bit of a break. So lad, how would you like to stay with me in Bag End for a couple of months? We'll fix up some of your favorites and get your stomach all squared away. Would you like that?"  
  
"To Bag End?" Frodo's eyes opened wide. Surely he must be dreaming. "I…I would love to stay with you, Uncle Bilbo." tears pooled in his eyes. "But…but…ooooh…" he groaned and held his stomach.  
  
Bilbo immediately reached over for an empty Bowl…having a feeling that he knew what was about to happen…and he was correct. The young hobbit doubled over and gave a little whimper as he clutched his stomach…and its meager contents fell into the empty dish while Bilbo rubbed his back. When it was done, Bilbo stuck the dish onto a chair and drew the trembling lad into his arms. He took a wet cloth and cleaned off around Frodo's mouth.  
  
While Frodo sat miserably on the stool, Bilbo went to work giving the dish a quick clean and prepared a couple of cold compresses as well as a pot of ginger tea with water that had already been boiling. Just when he felt as though he was going to slip off the stool, his Uncle came back and put his arm about the young hobbit's shoulders. Using the compress, he cooled down Frodo's neck, cheeks and forehead. "There there…no tears, lad. There's no shame in it." the older hobbit smiled warmly as Frodo sniffled wretchedly.  
  
Frodo nodded wordlessly and clung to his uncle. "It hurts, Bilbo." The small hobbit sighed and looked down at the ginger tea. "It'll just come up again…"  
  
"Not this Tea, Frodo. Its got something a little extra in it. Now then, have just a sip or two and it'll get that nasty taste out of your mouth. Open up. That's a good lad." Bilbo cajoled, tilting Frodo's chin up so that he would not refuse the tea.  
  
Frodo complied. He was not quite happy about it, but he took a tentative sip at first. Then…as he felt the soft liquid trickle down his throat…and coat it and his stomach.. What was that? Honey! He licked his lips and smiled up at Bilbo. His uncle had doused the tea with honey to get rid of the tonic's effects. He eagerly sipped a bit more and breathed a satisfied sigh of relief.  
  
He felt…well…better already. This was the kind of attention he needed. He needed someone to make special things for him and be there for him. Back in his mind he knew it was only going to be for two months and then everything would be the same again…but at least for those two months he wouldn't feel quite so wretched and maybe his stomach would stop hurting altogether!  
  
He glanced over at the pudding. "Bilbo…please…please May I have a little bit of the pudding now?" he asked with a soft smile. His big, bright blue eyes blinked up at his uncle as his curls fell back. It was looks like that that generally melted Bible's heart and made him wonder why he didn't stop his wandering and just take his young nephew to live with him permanently. Perhaps… Perhaps someday. There was still so many things to do and to see and he wasn't quite ready to settle down yet.  
  
"Alright then lad. A small bowl mind, we don't want you to eat too much right away after not eating for so long. And don't try to tell me you have because I've had a chat with Saradoc. I know all about it, my lad. But that's okay now. You'll rest for another day and then I'll hitch the buggy back up and we'll be off to Hobbiton."  
  
"Oh Uncle Bilbo!" Frodo suddenly gave his Uncle a tight warm hug, as tight as his small, weak arms could manage and he gave a sob of happiness. "I missed you."   
  
"I missed you too, m'boy. Missed you too."  
  
***TBC*** 


	5. CHAPTER FIVE

Sorry this took so long, folks. The days just seemed to pass by so fast!!! And I've been a bit depressed about my writing.:/ -Rufferto.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
TWILIGHT YEARS -- CHAPTER FIVE  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Frodo looked up at Bilbo as he scooted into a stool rubbing his sweaty face. He really didn't feel all that well…but his stomach was literally empty. He'd had nothing to eat most of the day and what he'd had to eat he had thrown up throughout the day while they tried to figure out what was wrong with him. Depending on how they were cooked, Frodo really liked apples. He smiled tentatively at the older hobbit. Bilbo never looked old though, he always looked the same every time Frodo saw him.   
  
"Bilbo…" Frodo asked tentatively as a few spoonfuls of the pudding was scraped out for him. "What if I can't eat this either?" he asked in a small frightened voice. It wasn't that he didn't -want- to be able to eat, it was just that it hurt every time and it always made him want to curl up and hide.  
  
But…Bilbo was here. And Bilbo always made everything all right.   
  
"Well now, lad. Then we'll just have to find something that doesn't. Don't you worry; I've a few tricks up the old sleeve when it comes to cooking. Learned well. Your father was not entirely healthy all the time either, Frodo, m'boy. We often had to take turns keep'in an eye on him." Bilbo pushed the little bowl over to the small hobbit and sat down next to him, reaching across the table to ruffle his nephews' thick mop of curls.  
  
Inwardly, the older hobbit frowned at the dampness of Frodo's curls and the heat of his nephew's brow. But…he did need something in his stomach. There was also a nice glass of warm tea with a mixture of oranges and apple spice in it, but he did not ply that yet.  
  
Frodo took a spoon and dipped it into the little bowl. He swirled it around nervously and a little sadly. Whenever he was told something about his parents his throat tended to knot up and he suppressed a little sob as he tried to be brave. Bilbo had made the pudding after all…just like his mama used to make. He wished with all his heart that she was the one feeding it to him, but unfortunately that was not to be. The child took a deep breath and brought a tiny bit of the putting to his lips, his pink tongue snaking out tentatively to lick at it a bit first.   
  
His bright blue eyes widened a little as he sucked down the delicate thick liquid. It tasted almost like he remembered it…even on top of the icky taste in his mouth from the tonic and throwing up all day and it was just so nice to taste something good. Tears welled up in his big blue eyes as he sniffled. Bilbo moved closer to the hobbit and brought a gentle cloth to dab the hobbit's little nose. "There now, my lad." He lifted Frodo into his lap and let his nephew snuggle against him. "This better?"  
  
"Yes, Uncle Bilbo." Frodo whispered softly as he looked back at the bowl. The small bit he had taken seemed to settle a little better than anything else he had taken that day or for the last few days even. He reached over and filled his spoon again as he felt a bit calmer.  
  
Only a few more bites later and Frodo shook his head when Bilbo tried to cajole him to eat more. "I'm sorry…tummy full…" The small hobbit yawned and blinked up at Bilbo sleepily. "Are you taking me away in the morning?"  
  
"In the afternoon, Frodo. Don't you worry about a thing." Bilbo frowned at the small amount that the hobbit ate, too small. It was hardly enough to feed a tiny bird let alone a growing hobbit lad. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a while, trying to come up with some different things to feed Frodo, but also trying to figure out what he could do to help Frodo in Brandy Hall. He needed someone looking after him who focused totally on him, especially when he was such a delicate lad. "Just have a bit to drink, there's a good lad."  
  
Frodo complied, reaching over to take the tea in his small hands and sipped. He was rather comfortable at the moment, and his stomach was actually settling somewhat though he still felt pain here and there…at least he didn't feel like he was about to throw up.  
  
That's it! Bilbo smiled. A nurse. He would get one of the Banks lasses to look after Frodo. What an excellent idea. She could come into the hall and make Frodo personal meals. He'd speak to the Gaffer and ask him about who would be suitable. The Gaffer Gamgee knew all of the lower class hobbits in the Shire…and especially the one's who might need extra money in the Buckland area. He would take Frodo to Bag End and figure out what the lad could and couldn't eat and then he'd make a list. It all made wonderful perfect sense, and he could still go about his travels knowing that Frodo was in good hands.  
  
"Bilbo?" Frodo yawned again, pushing away the tea.  
  
"What is it lad?"  
  
"Can you take me on one of your adventures?" the small voice was muffled against the older hobbit's vest but the plaintive note was clear. Frodo didn't want to stay in Brandy Hall anymore. "I want to see what the mountains are like."  
  
Bilbo sighed gently and lifted the small hobbit into his arms. Frodo was really not that much to carry, smaller than most children and frightfully thin at the time. Thin enough that Bilbo could feel the child's ribs and that wasn't right…that wasn't right at all.  
  
"Don't you be talking silly there, Frodo. You're far too young to be gallivanting after the likes of me." He carried the young hobbit back down to his bedroom and tucked him into the soft quilts. "But…I'll tell you about them. And we can imagine that the next few weeks are an adventure. It'll be just the two of us alone together and we can imagine what we please. What do you say, lad?"  
  
Frodo coughed a little and smiled wearily. "I'd like that. Bilbo…."  
  
Bilbo watched over Frodo as the small lad finally closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. When he did, the older hobbit took a cool cloth from a nearby basin and rubbed down the boy's forehead and face. He was not too sure it was a good idea to move Frodo at all, but he was not entirely comfortable looking after the lad here in Brandy Hall. People were always under foot and getting in the way.  
  
Esmerelda was at the door to Frodo's bedroom smiling at the Baggins, "He did eat something, then."  
  
"A little, Esse. But I feel he'd fare better in Bag End with me. Its not that you're not doing a good job here, but I think the Lad needs some personal handling and special foods. I've been thinking a bit and I may have a solution to the problem. I know you care about him too, Esse. Don't blame you t'all."  
  
Esmerelda laid her hand on the old hobbit's shoulder, "I wish you would make up your mind about staying in the Shire, Bilbo Baggins."  
  
"Someday." Bilbo wrung out the cloth and gazed at the angelic face of his young nephew who had been through so much. "Someday I will."  
  
**TBC** 


End file.
